The Assignment
by Nolee of Stone Mountain
Summary: Joren hires an assassin to kill Kel. As planned, the assassin abducts her and takes her to Carthak. Joren gets a guilty conscience, so he goes after her. A tale of kidnap and sorcery unfolds. Complete!
1. The Task

"You want me to take care of her?" the man asked dubiously. "As in, kill her?"

"Yes," Joren of Stone Mountain said calmly. 

The man, Tony of Maren, shifted uncomfortably. "It seems kind of…low."

"How so?"

"It's just that, well, we've never killed a _girl_ before."

Joren shrugged nonchalantly. "There's a first time for everything."

"Yeah, but—"

"Listen, I paid you the fifty gold nobles," the squire broke in angrily. "To sweeten the deal, if need be, I'll even throw in another thirty."

Tony licked his lips. "Eighty gold nobles? Just to kill a measly little girl?"

"She's more than a measly little girl," Joren mumbled. _I'll give you that much, you ugly slut_, he thought. _You're certainly more than I thought you would be…_

"I see," the assassin said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "How do you want her killed?"

"I get to choose?"

"Most customers don't, but you paid extra, so I find myself…obliged to give you options."

Joren tapped his mouth with his index finger, ice blue eyes glazed with what Tony noticed cringingly a slightly sadistic eagerness. 

"Are you going to do it?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, good gods, no," Tony chuckled. "I handle the gory, sordid, extra-difficult jobs, like murdering a king. Your task will be assigned to one of the less valuable assassins."

"Then make sure he doesn't know my name," Joren said abruptly.

"Why?"

"So he doesn't have the name of the one who wants to kill her," he replied. "I don't want him turning around and stabbing me in the back."

"My business doesn't do that," Tony said stiffly.

"I take no chances."

"You're a sly one," he said carefully, appraising the blond in front of him. 

"And I expect whoever gets the job to kill her as discreetly as possible," Joren added.

"Of course. How do you want her dead?"

"Hmm…"

There was a pause, in which Tony waited impatiently and Joren thought up nasty ways of killing his rival.

"Kidnap her," he finally said, abruptly and suddenly. "Kidnap her, and take her to the Copper Isles, or Carthak. Somewhere far. Not one of these neighboring countries."

"That's it?" Tony asked. "You want her taken to a faraway land to be killed?"

Joren shrugged. "I want her tortured on the way, of course," he said. "Just make sure she doesn't know who assigned this mission."

"Nothing else?"

"Yes," Joren said, standing up and donning his black cloak. "That's it."

He exited the master assassin's house. Tony watched him skulk down the street, practically invisible in the dark night. When the squire disappeared around the corner, he entered his house, also donning a black cloak. He went out the door and in the opposite direction, his purpose to tell Assassin Frenn that he had a new assignment—to kill Page Keladry of Mindelan. 

~*~

**Hmm…A little short, but it's my first fic. Review to tell me what you think. Oh, and I need ideas for a new title. I don't like the current one.  **      


	2. Hints

The nighttime study group met in the library as planned, with Owen of Jesslaw wandering in last, looking rather dazed.

"You look very odd," Nealan of Queenscove remarked as the younger page took his seat beside him. "Are you okay?"

"I just got kissed," he said dreamily.

"What!" Esmond of Nicoline screeched. "That's not fair! _I_ haven't even been kissed yet!" 

"It's sad when a younger guy gets kissed before you," Kel giggled. "Especially if that younger guy is a Jesslaw." She turned to Owen. "So? Who was it?"

"Lady Vanessa," he replied vaguely.

"Of Maren?" Seaver of Tasride asked incredulously.

"Her older brother is an assassin," Kel muttered.

That snapped Owen out of his reverie. "What?" he panicked.

"It's just what I heard," she added hastily. "It may not be true."

"She has a big forehead," Neal said suddenly. 

They turned to stare at him. 

"That was…random," Faleron of King's Reach said.

"Yeah, and it was just the other day when you were mooning over her," Owen sniffed, a little hurt. 

"He has a point," Kel told her best friend. "You thought about her to the point of obsession."

"Oh, shut up," Neal said irritably. She shrugged, suppressing a smile, and looked down at her book.

It was then she was hit with an overpowering feeling that she was being watched. 

Nervously, Kel looked up and around; no one was in sight. Still…the little hairs on the back of her neck were prickling so bad she reminded herself of an angry cat. Her eyes darted around, her ears strained to hear above the whispers of her friends, and still she saw and heard nothing.

"Kel?"

She jumped, and realized it was just Neal. 

"Oh, it's you," she breathed.

He stared at her, one arched eyebrow raised in amusement. "Who did you think it was? Little Bunny Fufu?"

Cleon of Kennan snorted. "What gave it away? Your twitchy pink nose? Your rather long ears?" 

"Why must you pick on me," Neal cried, overdramatic as always. He turned beseechingly to Kel.

"There, there," she said sympathetically, patting his head. "It'll be alright."

"No it won't," he wailed. 

"As daft as always, I see," a cold voice said. The feeling she was being watched vanished. "Will you ever grow up, Queenscove?"

The entire study group quieted, staring at the handsome, blue-eyed squire suspiciously.

"What do you want, Stone?" Owen growled.

"Oooh, nasty," Joren smirked. "Can't a guy just come by and say hi?"

"Not when that guy is Joren of Stoned Mountain," Cleon snapped. 

"And yes, that slur on your fief was on purpose," Neal added. "Now, what do you want?"

"I just wanted to get a good look at Mindelan," Joren said indifferently, glancing at her. "After all, she could die tomorrow. Maybe you should do the same. Get a good look at your bed-warmer w—if she dies."

Kel stared at him. What the heck was wrong with him? Why would he care? Better yet, why would he be thinking about her death? She was suddenly chilly. Unless, of course, he had planned something dangerous…utterly dangerous. 

"I thank you for your concern, Joren, but I assure you, I don't plan on dropping dead anytime soon," she said crisply. "Good night to you."

He gave her the strangest look she had ever seen. He smiled tightly at her.

"Of course," he said coolly. "See you tomorrow, then?"

"Of course."

~*Before the Library*~

I wonder if Mindelan and her little posse are in the library. Maybe I should drop by…let her know…or give her an inkling of what's in store for her…

Joren paused at the foot of the stairs, looking up them, pondering. For some reason he had a bizarre desire to look at her face. If the assassin Tony hired was going to kidnap her when he said he was—which was tonight, or the very early morning—then it would be the last time he ever looked at her. And that bugged him.

Must be the stress, he decided, settling the matter and starting up the stairs. It's the first time I ever hired to kill anybody. Just side effects, probably.

He slid into the library and shut the door. A little further into the room he heard voices, four or five deep ones and another slightly higher, softer one. He sidled in, quietly, as was his way. The Stone Mountain in him enjoyed a silent, sudden entrance.

Joren sighed softly and leaned against the wall, watching Mindelan. She was thirteen, the age where a lot of girls would be thinking about marriage, maybe even getting betrothed. But she was sitting there among boys—

—Stupid slut—

—wearing a page's uniform, with short hair and big muscles. Not gorgeous, maybe, but…charming in her own, tough little way. The one thing he thought girlish about her were her eyes; green-hazel, with the longest lashes he had ever fucking seen.

Ugh. Stop it, Joren.

He spotted Queenscove, putting on false waterworks and Mindelan patting his head. He rolled his eyes. What children.

"…won't," the brunette was wailing.

"As daft as always, I see. Will you ever grow up, Queenscove?"

They silenced and glared at him. 

"What do you want Stone?" the roly-poly page—it was a Jesslaw, he knew, Bowen, or something like that—growled. Wow, incredibly intimidating.

"Ooh, nasty," Joren scoffed. "Can't a guy just come by and say hi?"

"Not when that guy is Joren of Stoned Mountain," the Kennan carrot-top said snappishly. 

"And yes, that slur on your fief was on purpose," Queenscove said. "Now, what do you want?"

"I just wanted to get a good look at Mindelan," Joren said in his indifferent way, staring at her. "After all, she could die tomorrow. Maybe you should do the same. Get a good look at your bed-warmer w—if she dies."

Kel was looking at him shrewdly. Joren suppressed a smile. She had no _idea_ what she was going to get. 

"I thank you for your concern, Joren, but I assure you, I don't plan on dropping dead anytime soon," she said a little stiffly. "Good night to you."

He looked at her, a tight smile on his face, his eyes unreadable. Why was he feeling so…weird?

"Of course," he said coolly. He was beginning to be…uncomfortable? "See you tomorrow, then?"

She looked at him, brow furrowed. "Of course."

~*~****

**Next chapter…the kidnapping! Muahahahahahaha! REVIEW!!!!!**


	3. Kidnap and Thoughts

This chapter may be short, and if it is, my apologies, but it is exactly 2:07 in the morning so I'm tired. Okay. That's done.

Disclaimer: 2,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 from 2,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 and that's how many characters I own. NONE!!!

~*~

A noise outside her window woke Keladry almost immediately, although she did not know it was that which woke her. 

Grumbling, she rolled over, the bed groaning from the movement. And that was when she saw the shadow. 

Kel bolted straight up in bed, her eyes fixed on the window, and she saw it move discreetly from vision. Quietly, so as not to wake her maid Lalasa, she kicked the covers off and swung around. The wood planks were cold beneath her bare feet, and she shivered. She slipped on her robe, and tiptoed across the room to the window. 

The shadow came back, and its shape reminded Kel of a person. Eyes narrowing and heart thudding, she slowly opened the window, feeling the night air on her face, smelling the freshness, and for a moment she thought that she had imagined the shadow.

And then it moved again. Caught off guard, she felt rough hands grab her shoulders and shove her back. Kel stumbled, opening her mouth to shout for help. Abruptly a hand covered her mouth. Her eyes widened in horror as she realized the person's intent. They almost popped out of her head when a knife was held up to her eye.

"Come quietly, and I won't hurt you," a very soft, quiet, masculine voice whispered. "Fight me, and you will die."

As though to make his point, he prodded her in the corner of her eye. He meant it. The man really meant it. So she stood up very slowly, the man still holding the knife, and made to try a sneak attack on him when his grip relaxed. With deadly carelessness and boredom he flipped the knife over and hit her over the head with the butt.

She dropped to the floor, out cold.

~*~__

_Damn it, why can't I sleep? It's not like they're going to kill her tonight!_

_Unless she doesn't come quietly. Knowing the Lump, she'll fight him…_

_So??? I don't care. I don't care. If I keep telling myself that I'll believe it. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. Gods damn it all, I don't care!!_

I'm experiencing the strangest sensation. The last time I felt like this was when I was four and had tied a weight to my best friend's cat…was my best friend name Akeem? Oh shit, it wasn't Vinson was it?! Oh well…And then I dropped the cat in the lake. Heh, it was kind of funny, watching it struggle desperately and look up at me so pitifully. When it died ten minutes later I felt…bad?

_It's what I feel like now._

_OH SHIT! I know what this is!!!!_

_IT'S MY GODS-FORSAKEN CONSCIENCE! ARGH! IT'S REUTNED FRO THE…DEAD?!!_

Joren bolted up in alarm. He had thought he lost his conscience a long time ago. Why, he was frickin' _four_ when he had a conscience last, and then it disappeared altogether.

_Well, whatever it is, I don't like it._

"So what do I want to do?" he mused out loud. "I want to go back to sleep…but then I guess it would only be fair if I went to her room and woke her up and told her…the assassin could not have possibly gotten her now…"

With that in his head, he jumped out of bed and out the door, dressed in nothing but his loincloth. It took him about five minutes to reach the pages' wing before pausing at Mindelan's room. He tried the knob, and found it locked. No matter. He pulled a ring off his finger and broke it—it was given to him by some lady who fancied him a year or two ago, completely worthless, nothing but cheap metal and glass—so that he could stick it in the lock. 

He yelped when some foul smelling liquid shot out at him.

_What the fuck?!     _

Incensed, he was about to march away when a voice on the other side of the door said, 

"If you leave now, I won't hurt you." It was deep and quiet, the latter with practice, and deadly honest.

Joren swallowed, forgetting all about his current, smelly state.

"Uh, I'm Joren of Stone Mountain," he whispered hoarsely. "I'm the guy who paid for Mindelan's assassination."

The voice chuckled. "Yeah, right," it said softly. "Master said that the Joren who paid for it was excited. He told me he was the kind of guy who would never go back on his word."

"Well, 'Master' was wrong," he said fiercely. 

The voice just laughed, still quiet, and Joren heard the rustle of clothes as he walked away. There was a pause and then some extra rustling, as though he was carrying a sack…or a body.

Joren exhaled gustily then straightened. __

_Okay then. That's fine. Mindelan will be taken to Carthak or wherever the fuck I sent her, but I don't care. I don't. Really._

As he went back to bed, a thought popped uninvited into his head.

_Since when have I become such an awful liar…?_

~*~****

**Muaha. Well, what do you think? The kidnapping was painfully short I'm afraid, but…at least it's there. Should this fic go up to rated R? It seems Joren has a bad mouth. Heh. But that's how my hubby is. *hugs a pained-looking Joren* Review!**

****


	4. Caught

Has anybody read a fic by Death Goddess Assassin? I was skimming over the TP pages and I came across her Fearless fic and I read it and now I'm like…wow. And then there's the Of Pancakes and Syrup. Hee. Anybody who HASN'T should read her. But anyway.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I own nothing. I own nothing. I own nothing. I own nothing. Oh, sorry. Those four extra "I own nothings" are there so I don't have to put them in the next four chapters. M'K. Read.

~*~

It was cold…very cold. And it was bumpy. Extremely bumpy.

Keladry moaned and forced her eyelids to open. She was looking up into a dark, star-speckled sky. She tried to move, but found she was tied down with thick, tight, coarse ropes_. _

_Ow…my head.            _

That hurt like crazy. It felt like it was swollen ten times its normal size, too, and was a little sticky from…what? Dried blood? Her head gave a nasty throb and she winced, hissing, as it all came back to her. Struggling with more determination, she was able to free her thumb, but that was all she managed when something ice-cold pressed against her cheek.

"I see you've woken up," her captor said. "Good. You're awfully trying asleep."

"Who…who are you?" she asked hoarsely, licking her dry, trembling lips.

There was a small pause, as though he was considering the idea.

"Well, upon the fact you won't live to tell anybody who I am, I suppose I can tell you," he said, and his voice seemed slightly conversational. "I'm Frenn, an assassin. I've been hired to kill you."__

_Put me down gently, why don't you_, Kel thought, bewildered. 

"How do you plan on killing me?"

"By taking you across seas to Carthak and killing you there, so no one finds the body."__

_Oh. Okay._

"Who hired you?" she asked dully. 

Before he opened his mouth she knew the answer.

"Some smart-mouth sadistic kid named…what was it? Starts with a J. He's from Stone Mountain. Ah, Joseph, Jorge…Joren! That's it! Lord Burchard's son, Joren of Stone Mountain!"

~*~ 

Some wench was screaming. Joren cracked open an eye, confused and tired. For a moment he had no clue what the girl was screaming about; then a sharp blast of a decidedly disgusting odor up his nostrils reminded him of what happened last night.

He had come back to his bed, tried to sleep, couldn't because he stank so bad, got up again, took a quiet bath, and then got back to bed. Unfortunately his bed sheets were soiled with whatever the hell it was, but by then he was so sleepy he didn't really care. Now he wished he had washed them. 

Not only was he the prime suspect now, thanks to his brilliant subtle hint to Mindelan in the library, but he was also the only one who would think of doing this.

_Damn. What'll Daddy dearest say? Not that I care. Only thing he's good for is paying fines and getting me out of trouble. Though I'm rather interested in what dear old knight-master Paxton has to say._

_Stupid git.       _

Joren sighed and sat up in bed. The screams had become wails, and they were accompanied by shouts and slamming doors and a gazillion different pairs of feet. The wailing was probably coming from that wench, Lollypop or whatever her frickin' name was.

Someone banged on his door, and the pain in his head mounted to explode into a throbbing headache._ Joy._

"Joren, wake up!" Vinson of Genlith shouted gleefully. "Someone has abducted the Lump!"__

_Abducted. Ah. A quaint way to put it.  _

"Oh, my," Joren said dryly, crawling out of his putrid bed. "How awful. Is she dead?"

"We don't know," Vinson replied happily. "There's not a body."__

_No shit, you dim-witted chicken. She's being taken to Carthak by ship where she will be beaten and possibly _

_(raped)_

_killed before she even reaches her destination. The men will do all sorts of cruel things to her, like club her or_

_(touch her)_

_stab her in the guts. _

Even as Joren thought about the beatings and the clubbing, he still came back to that one thought…He knew it would be inevitable. A cold assassin and thirty-odd rough-and-tough sailors on one ship together, and then here's this young girl who is cute in her own way…yes, it would definitely be inevitable.

Joren paused in button his shirt, then continued. He tumbled lowly chits all the time—weren't squires infamous for it?—but only when they wanted it. He, who hires assassins to kill some innocent page; he, who enjoys pain and destruction with a sadistic kind of pleasure; he, who would tie weights to his friend's cat and watched it sink into its murky fate; he, who would tie matches to dogs' tails and then light then and watch them run, could not bare to even think of spoiling a girl.

Whenever Vinson or Garvey of Runnerspring found some lass in the slums of Corus, and got that look in their eyes, he always scrammed. There was something infinitely wrong about it. And that was what bothered him the most.

…That Mindelan might get…that she would be…__

_…Raped…_

The thought left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. He would listen to his friends' tales of deflowering young ladies with a kind of suppressed horror, but always laugh with them.

_Who am I to worry? _Joren thought uneasily, finishing buttoning_. Mindelan is strong, she'll make it._

_Are you sure?_

_DAMN YOU, CONSCIENCE! GO AWAY!_

~*~   

Something long and skinny was stuck in Kel's mouth when she woke up. Confused, and not entirely awake, she moved her tongue around it and found that the middle of it was hollow.__

_A straw_, she realized dimly_. Why is there a straw in my mouth?_

"You awake?" the man Frenn asked gruffly. 

She grunted a feeble yes.

"Good. I'm going to give you something to drink, okay?"

Her parched throat constricted painfully in anticipation. She grunted another croaky yes, and seconds later a cool, fruity liquid was poured in her mouth through the straw. She closed her eyes, slurping it up blissfully. This was the first drink—wait scratch that, this was the first _nourishment _she had had in what was it, weeks, months? In reality, six hours, but it felt much longer.__

_Why do I have to use a straw?_ she wondered._ Why can't I just sit up and drink?_

_Because he's afraid I'll bolt. _

Which she would, first chance she got. Kel had no intention of staying here with this crazy or_ whatever _the heck he was.

If she couldn't escape him within the Tortall boundaries, then perhaps she could escape in the Copper Isles…or was it Carthak? Oh well…it started with a C for sure. There was bound to be a Tortallan-ally sandwiched in there somewhere. Especially if it was Carthak, which was on much more amiable terms with Tortall since Daine Sarrasri the Wildmage visited some years back and since Kaddar took over his uncle's position as Emperor of Carthak.__

_Hope it is Carthak_, she thought_. Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure that's where I'm going.           _

Oh how she hoped it was. The Copper Isles were not their enemy, not really, but…they weren't exactly Tortall-lovers. If helping a Tortallan would benefit them somehow, that's great, if not, that sucks for Tortallans.

She opened her mouth to ask where they were, why the road was so bumpy, what hey were riding on—though she was pretty sure it was a horse and cart or something of the like—when her head began to feel dizzy and her stomach lurched queasily.

_Poison_, was her last thought before she sank in some kind of merciful, blank darkness.

~*~

"How many times do I have to tell you, I had nothing to do with the murder?!"

Quiet obviously, Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak did not believe Joren's ardent outburst, no matter how sincere it sounded. He watched the blond squire with his black eyes that were now so deadly calm and furious.

Joren, reminded of the man's giant size and of his rather puny one, gulped.

"I have interrogated several of Keladry's friends," Raoul continued softly, eyes never leaving those icy blue ones that were becoming increasingly though practically unnoticeably twitchy, "and they all claim you came up to them the night of her disappearance with a heart-wrenching tale of how you wanted to look at her in case she died tomorrow."

"That was just a philosophy, a, a paranormal preparation," Joren almost shouted desperately. He was ashamed to find his voice cracked. "I truly had nothing to do with her abduction!"

"Uh-huh," the dark man said doubtfully. "So your bed sheets have nothing to do with it?"

"What sheets?" he asked, attempting to slip on his calm, cool mask, as Mindelan did hers.

"Quite frankly, they stink—and Salma mentioned to me one time that there was a little bewitchment on the lock that would squirt anybody who picked it with urine or some other foul-smelling liquid."

Joren watched him, empty-eyed, sweaty_. _

_Caught.   _

~*~

I take it nobody really does have ideas for the title after all? If nobody does, then I'll just keep the title. What the hell. Maybe I will be inspired in later chapters. 


	5. Almost There

Thanks to sw33t t3mptations for giving me some titles. I'm considering some of them. Forgot which ones though x_x Just for that, I'm dedicating this chapter to you. And to Wake-Robin, because she thought up one too. Oh, and for those who did not know, this will eventually be K/J. I'm obsessed with that pairing, so expect a lot more K/J fics from me.   

Disclaimer: Look at previous chapter.   

~*~

The noon bell rang, but Joren just hazily acknowledged it. They knew. Everyone knew it was he who did it, somehow. He did not know _how_ they knew (okay, maybe he did), just that they did.

When he walked into the mess hall for breakfast the entire room fell silent. Mindelan's friends stared at him with stony faces, then whispered to each other fiercely, glaring, looking at him like he was scum.

On the other hand, his friends and those who shared a hatred of the Lump grinned or winked at him, hooting and nodding appreciatively at him. There were much fewer supporters on his side. Some that detested Mindelan shook their heads at him—they did not like her, but they thought it was shameful what he did_. _

_I wish they'd stop looking at me like that. _

But they did not—admittedly, they could not read minds anymore than he could, but _still_.

He saw Lord Wyldon of Cavall, the training master, stand up, and his heart sank, though his face betrayed no emotions. A second or two behind him was Sir Paxton of Nond…his knight-master.

_Huzzah_, he thought dully.

"Squire Joren, I do believe we have some issues that need to be discussed," Paxton said in his clipped voice. 

"Please meet us in my office," Wyldon said coldly. (A/N: What are medieval-office thingys called. I forget ^_^;;)

Joren nodded curtly then joined Vinson and Garvey at their table. Vinson threw around his back a long, spindly arm.

"I don't know what you did, but you got rid of the Lump," he hissed gleefully.

"Good job, Joren," Garvey agreed approvingly, shoving a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. "Maybe she'll stay away for good this time."

Why did that thought not comfort him?

"Maybe," he said absently.

"You don't seem to be awfully proud," Vinson said suspiciously.

"Oh, I am, I am…it's just that everybody knows it was me."

"Ah…yeah, you should be worried about that."

"No._ Shit._"

~*~

Keladry squirmed fiercely, squealing behind the gag with heated indignation. 

"Will you_ shut UP_?!" a man yelled, boxing her ears.

She paused three seconds before deciding that it did not hurt that bad and began to thrash again. The only person she took orders from was Frenn. He was a man to reckon with. 

"Gods damn it all—"

"Is there a problem?"

Almost immediately she and the four men stilled. 

"Well, mister assassin, sir, the girl hasn't shut up since you left and—"

"Whose fault is that?" Frenn asked coolly. "Not mine, certainly. Not the girl's, she is not to blame in the matter. That leaves the blame with you, and so help me, if someone heard her I'll tear your rotten heads off."

Silence. 

"But—"

"Don't argue with me, Arden. The last man who did found himself buried six feet under missing a head, an arm, and both legs over in Tusaine."

"Why isn't she being punished?" Arden asked in a small voice.

"It wasn't her job to keep her quiet, now was it?" 

"No, but she was the one making the noise." 

"Maybe so, but wouldn't you do the same if you were bound and gagged? Therefore, the blame lies solely on you."

Kel craned her neck to see Arden better. She could not see him very well, but the glimpse she did get showed a young man with curly blond hair looking extremely pale, nervous, and more than a little indignant.

"Have you fed her?"

"No, she wouldn't—"

"Gods damn it, I told you to feed her! I want her dead after the voyage, not before it! Those were my orders!"

"But—"

"Feed her!" Frenn hissed furiously. 

"Yes sir," the men muttered, scrambling away like mice.

Frenn looked down at his charge and saw with a sort of strange feeling the spark of triumph in her dangerously glittering eyes. The chit was so full of life, so spunky, it almost made him wish he did not have to kill her.

Almost.

"I see you gave my men a hard time," he chuckled, sitting down at her feet. "Good girl. They need to learn that I'm not the only one who can boss them around. I'll remove the gag, if you promise not to scream."

She nodded, and he slowly and carefully pulled out the dirty cloth. Gratefully she ran her swollen tongue over her chapped lips, and she spoke in a hoarse, grating voice.

"Where am I? How long have we been gone? Where did you go? Where did you find those men? Where did they come from? Who are they?"

A smile tugged at the corner of the assassin's mouth. "In two hours we'll reach the dock, where we'll get on a boat and go to Carthak. It's been, hm, _about _ten hours since I kidnapped you."

_You say that so remorsefully_, she thought wryly. 

"I went ahead to the dock to make sure our ship was reserved. Those men are part of the crew, bandits from Galla."

One of the bandit-sailors, a dark boy who seemed no more than thirteen, returned with a basket of sausage rolls in one hand and water in the other. 

"Can you sit up enough to drink the water?" Frenn asked.

"I'm not drinking anything else," Kel snapped.

"The water isn't poisoned this time, little warrior."

"I don't trust you," came the petulant reply.

For some reason that made the assassin's eyes narrow and his mouth settle into a frown.

"Listen, little warrior, my job may not be the most respectable—"

She snorted.

"—or the most honorable—"

She snorted.

"—but I keep my word. Always."

She snorted.

"Well then, how do you know the food isn't poisoned, huh? I can slip a drug or herb in your food easily as I can slit Filip's throat here.

Young Filip gulped and clutched his neck with desperate hands.

Kel eyed him warily, but in the end gave in to the thirst and hunger and indulged herself in the delicious meal. She tensed, waiting for the wash of dizziness she had experienced twice now. But nothing happened, and she looked confused at her captor.

"I told you, didn't I?" he asked dryly. "I want you conscious and alert so you can cooperate."

"And what if I don't?" she asked.

Frenn casually pulled out his dagger. "I'll kill you."

~*~__

_Long time no see._

_Go away._

_Now, Jory, dear, is that anyway to greet your conscience? _

_It is when you don't want it here. _

_Always the charmer. We need to talk._

_No we don't._

_Yes we do. About Keladry._

_Her name's Mindelan. _

_No it's not. Now, you know as well as I do that what you're doing is cruel and callous._

_Nuh-uh. It's perfectly reasonable. _

_Not quite, love. I suggest you do something._

_What can I do? I tried telling the assassin person to stop, but he didn't think I was me._

_Then you'll have to do what any sweet person would do._

_Glad I'm not a sweet person._

_You should go after her. _

Joren sat bolt up in his bed. "Like hell," he said out loud. "Why should I? I don't care about her."__

_You do, or I wouldn't be back after all these years. _

"Oh, shut up. Can't you leave me alone? I'm trying to think about how to get out of this mess. Everybody suspects me."__

_Your problem, _his conscience said in a singsong voice. 

The meeting with the Stump and dear old Paxy did not go so well. They had started off by saying they know he did it and that they were going to do everything they could to make sure everyone else did too_. _

_I never would have thought the_ Stump_, of all people, would defend Kela—I mean Mindelan.           _

"What am I going to do?" Joren moaned into his pillow.__

_Go after her, you nitwit._

"OKAY!" Joren screamed, leaping out of bed. "IF IT MEANS GETTING YOU OFF MY GODDAMN TAIL, I WILL GO AFTER THE STUPID SLUT AND SAVE HER SKIN! BUT SO HELP ME, IF YOU DON'T DISAPPEAR AS SOON AS I DO, I'LL KILL HER MYSELF!"__

_Someone needs anger management, don't they Joren?_

~*~


	6. The Journey Begins

Joren hit the ground with a thud. Annoyed, he looked up at the saucy little mare that bucked him off. She looked at him coolly, innocently puzzled, as though wondering why and how he got down there.

He was in a small wood, the sunlight dim but plentiful, with green tress all around him, following a narrow dirt path through the wood that he knew lead to the harbor. The only problem was it was taking longer than he thought it would.

"Don't look at me like that, you little shit," he grumbled, mounting. The mare sidestepped and he found himself lying flat on his back, one foot still in the stirrup, on the ground. "Gods damn it," he muttered. "Hold still!"

This time he mounted much more slowly and carefully, keeping a wary eye on her. She stood tranquilly in place. He relaxed and nudged her. She bucked and he flew over her head.

"Listen you," he snarled, pinching her nostrils and looking into her startled brown eyes. "I am on a mission to save somebody before they get killed, and if I'm going to get there in time, you are going to have to cooperate. Do you understand?"

The mare stared at him impassively. Reassured, he mounted.

And fell off the other side.

~*~

"There it is, little warrior. The_ Sorcerer's Mistress_."

Keladry gazed half-heartedly at the huge ship at the dock. Compared to all the other ones, this one was fairly large, but not the biggest one. 

"Looks like an ordinary old ship to me," she muttered. "Nothing to be proud of."

Frenn sighed and shook his head. "This ship is the swiftest non-living thing without legs that can get us to Carthak. It's also the cleanest."

"It would be if those sailors weren't on it," she said, meaning the men who were carrying cargo up the plank. They were more of those Tyran bandit-sailors, dirty, greasy, lice-bitten bastards who looked as though they hadn't had a bath in a good two weeks. 

"I have no problem with them," the redheaded man said nonchalantly. "You're the one who will have to keep their hands off you."

Kel went cold and looked up at the handsome, green-eyed man cloaked in black even in the daylight. 

"What do you mean?" she asked hesitantly.

"I mean, the boy Joren wanted you to be tortured completely, so he left orders for me to hire the most woman-deprived men I could find."__

_Oh, Joren, how could you?_

"Oh," she managed weakly.

She missed the sad look on her captor's face.

~*~

"We aren't getting anywhere," Joren grunted. "We are only five feet away from where we were twenty minutes ago."

The mare snorted. 

"Yeah, ha ha, that's so funny, ha ha," he snapped, glaring at her. She gazed at him sweetly. "Gods, you make Mindelan's horse Peachfuzz or whatever the heck his name is look like a darling. You know what? I'm going to call you Bitch. That's your name now—Bitch."

The mare shook her head. 

"No? Why not? It suits you. How about…Mushroom?"

The mare stared at him.

"Just a guess…Hellfire?"

The mare bobbed her head. 

"Hellfire? Okay then. That's your name. Hellfire. Whoop. Now that I've chosen a suitable name for you, will you let me ride you?"

Hellfire contemplated this, then sidled up to Joren and presented to him her back.

"Good little bitchy mare. Okay then. Onward!"

He mounted and fell off the other side.

~*~

Frenn put his hands on Kel's shoulders and steered her toward the ship. Her legs did not move easily; they wobbled and shook and threatened to collapse at any moment, but she steeled herself and forced them to move. 

"Hurry," he hissed in her ear. "I didn't realize certain people were going to be here. I don't want them to see me!"

"Why?" Kel asked scornfully. "Scared of them?"

"They're pirates, rough ones. They outnumber me and my crew. For every one of us there are two or three or even four of them."

Still steering her toward the _Sorcerer's Mistress_, he pointed to another ship a ways down the harbor, slightly smaller but much more classy. A tattered black flag with a white skull on it waved proudly in the salty wind.

"That's the _Mageskull_," he whispered to her, quickening their pace. "It's said to be made of nothing more than the bones of mages they killed."

Kel herself was beginning to be nervous. She looked around with wide eyes, seeing only sailors and captains, then asked the assassin, "Why are they after you? What did you do?"

Frenn sighed, a little regretfully, she noticed, as they hurried up the plank. "I killed the pirate captain's daughter, Anesia. He wants his revenge."

"What would he do if he found me?" she whispered.

He looked at her. "Spoil and kill you," he replied solemnly, before shoving her into the ship.

~*~

Sand sprayed everywhere as Joren pulled on the reins. Hellfire squealed and reared, indignant. 

He dismounted quickly and stumbled forward, eyes fixed on the ships in the wharf. What was the ship called? Tony didn't say…in fact, Tony did not reveal much at all. Damn it. 

Joren gritted his teeth and squinted against the sun, eyes searching the ocean. There was a big ship—at least, he thought it was big—in the far distance, but it was much to far away to tell what the _name_ was, much less if _Mindelan_ was on it. 

Some men walked by him. Joren paid little attention to them until one of them said in a very low voice,

"…after t' assassin from Tony's house."

"You sure he's here? I didn't see him."

"If t' Cap'n says Frenn's 'ere, then Frenn's prolly 'ere."  

Tony, and Frenn. 

Joren grabbed one of the men's arm. The man snapped his head around and glared at the blond.

"Say now. What's your problem, laddy?"

"You know who Tony is?"

The man stiffened.

"Aye, I do," he hissed. "But ya better not say a word tha' I do or I'll 'ave your ear!" 

"No, no," Joren murmured. "I was hoping you could help me…"

"Any money on ya, lad? If so I could work somethun out."

"S-Sorry, I don't have any with me, but if you help me I'll be sure to get you some—"

"Ha," the other man scorned. "I heard that one when I was a boy. Don' even try it, pretty one."

Joren winced. "Please, sir! The man, Frenn, he has a girl—"

"Ah, he 'as your lady, does he, now? If Frenn has her, then more than likely he's been 'ired to kill 'er."

"Will you help me, please, sirs?"

"Aw, come on, Kris," the man he had grabbed said. "The Cap'n 'as a weak spot for the lasses of the world, he'll prolly help."

"Aye," Kris said dubiously, "but the lad may not be trusted…"

"He's one of those soft nobles," the other man continued cheerily. "What harm could he do?"

"Well…okay." Kris grabbed Joren roughly by the ear. "Come on, lad. We're taking you to see the Cap'n."      


	7. Meet the Cap'n

Oh yeah! Thanks Kassi! I remember now! Hee. Thank you so much. I'm really glad you like my fic, by the way. It makes me feel all warm and bubbly inside. *cough* ANYWAY…

~*~

"The _Mageskull_?" Joren mused out loud, nervously.

"She's a beaut, isn't she?" Kris sighed in admiration. "Powered by magic, she is."

"Aye," the other man, Tharon, added. "Ya wanna know how?"

"No," Joren squeaked.

"Good answer," Kris chuckled. "Hurry up, boy."

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Sheesh."

The look Kris bestowed him made him want to eat his words.

Sailors and noble hurried up the wooden plank and onto the ship. Joren glanced over the edge and gulped; it was a long way down to the water.__

_Then don't look at it, dumbass._

_You again?_

_I'm never going to go away, not unless you save Keladry, and even then it's an if._

_Gods, do I hate you._

_You always did.      _

Joren hmphed and followed the men. "What's the Captain's name?" he asked curiously, brushing a lock of pale hair out of his eyes. "Why's he so great?"

The men turned to glare at him, and Kris opened his mouth to reply. He closed it with an audible click as a shadow fell over Joren and their eyes fixed on something behind him. Joren swallowed nervously, and turned slowly around. 

In front of him stood a man with thick black hair tied back in a horsetail and a black beard plaited into hundreds of braids, each tied with small crimson ribbons. One of his eyes was covered with an eye patch; the other yellow orb bore into his own. A colorful parrot rested itself on one of the man's broad, sturdy shoulders, and stared at him distrustfully. The man leaned close, close enough for the small squire to smell his rancid breath.

"I am Lucas Murray, Captain of the _Mageskull_, leader of the Black Bandits," he said. "Who are you? Kris, Tharon, what have I said about bringing Tortallan noble trash on board my ship?"

Kris trembled, an amazing sight considering he was actually an inch or two taller than Captain Lucas Murray. 

"He begged our 'elp, Cap'n," he whimpered. "The a-assassin F-Frenn, 'e took 'is lady—"

Joren opened his mouth to correct that, but, noticing the Captain's softening expression, closed it back, deciding to let them come to their own conclusions.

"Ah, yes, I know what it's like to lose someone dear to you," he murmured gruffly. "What else?"

"They're headin' for Carthak, Cap'n," Tharon said immediately. "Unless they plan on sidetrackin', or they were just headin' in that direction to throw us off course before they turn, I'll say that's exactly where they're going. And Frenn's not one to take precautions; he'll do exactly what he's told to do, so I doubt he'd've just been goin' in that direction to throw us off."

Murray nodded thoughtfully, then said, "Gather the rest of the boys, you two. We're a-goin' Frenn-huntin'."

~*~

"Shouldn't we have gone in a different direction if you want to escape them?" Arden asked timidly. "I mean…they know where we're headed now."

"I want them to," Frenn said grimly, fiddling with his dagger. "I have more men in Carthak, acquaintances of mine that will help us out if the Black Bandits turn out to be more than we can chew."

"Black Bandits?" Keladry asked, startled. 

"Those are the pirates," the assassin replied, tucking his dagger away in his sleeve. "It's what their Captain calls them."

"Sounds…interesting," she managed weakly.

Frenn barked out a hoarse chuckle. "Yes, little warrior, it is. Especially if they catch up to us and rape and beat you."

Kel fell silent. He stared at her with his unreadable emerald eyes for a second, then looked away. She had needed to escape the lingering eyes of men so had found a secluded corner on board, so for two hours she huddled and became invisible as best she could. Frenn had sought her out, laden with two trays of food, and found her here. Not long after Arden came, bringing news that Darrl spotted the _Mageskull_ in the red-gold horizon, a dark shadow of menace with a deadly intent.

In the time she had been with Frenn, she had come to realize that he was not incredibly bad. He was just…confused? Lost, maybe? He had a heart at least.__

_Unlike SOMEONE I know. Cough, Joren, cough.  _

Kel sighed and rubbed her bare arms. She was acutely and uncomfortably aware that she was still dressed in her nightshirt, and Arden's occasional sultry glance told her that he was aware of the fact to.

"Frenn," someone shouted. "Frenn! The_ Mageskull_! It's picking up speed!"

"Damn," Frenn hissed. He boxed Arden's ears. "Take the little warrior downstairs to the supply room, and stay there with her until I come down for you!"

Arden nodded and yanked Kel up by her arm urgently. The assassin turned to the rest of the men.

"The rest of you, prepare to fight!"

~*~

Sorry it's so short, but I knew you were just DYING for the next chapter. I hope you like it, at any rate. I have huge plans for this fic…huge, diabolical plans…muahahahaha… 


	8. Strange Encounters

**Eh…this chapter is kind of weird, and may be confusing, and will probably be short, but it'll all be explained in future chapters.**

**Disclaimer: Those you don't recognize are probably mine. Those you do probably aren't, but for the sake of my ego pretend they are. Please? **

~*~

Ten cloaked figures moved in a silent circle around a pedestal that supported a huge glowing gem. The first one stepped forward, hands outstretched. Upon reaching it the figure knelt, palms flat against each other as though in prayer.

"God of destruction, god of chaos, rise forth and remind us of our purpose," a man's cold monotone voice whispered from inside the hood. "Come to me, your caller, Sha'sa'in, master of the Dark Arts. I call you forth!"

The gem flashed brightly before fading to black. A smoky gray figure began to rise from it, hazy and unable to be seen properly. It climbed out, gently landing on the ground, and then began to solidify. The hair went from dark silver to ash blond. Eyes of hard granite became icy blue. Clothes of expensive silk attired the tall, muscular yet slender figure.

"What is it you want, Sha'sa'in?" Lesenac, bastard-son of Uusoae, goddess of chaos, and Mynoss, the Black God of death (AN: is that the Black God's name? Who can remember?), asked.

"I want to know how we can gain the immortality you spoke of before," Sha'sa'in asked. "We want nothing more than to be immortal so we can be your loyal followers. But, Dark Master, how can we accomplish this?"

Lesenac smiled coldly. "A sacrifice is all I must say."

"Any sacrifice?" Sha'sa'in begged. "No specific gender?"

"Not that I know of," the god continued smoothly. "But it must be human, and pure of heart, with a sense of dignity, and respect for what's right."

There was a whispering among the shadow figures.

"There are hundreds like that," Sha'sa'in said confidently. "No problem."

Lesenac raised his eyebrows. "And it must be a Tortallan knight."

"Why Tortall?" the dark priest asked curiously. "And…why knights?"

"As answer to the second question, knights have a code of chivalry that will most certainly guarantee that they will be perfect sacrifice. They know what honor is, and self-righteousness. 

"And Tortall is a kingdom of mystery. Old magic still walks the ground in that country, same as new magic."

"So we will have to go all the way across the ocean to Tortall to get a sacrifice," Sha'sa'in cried, dismayed.

Lesenac smiled secretively. "No. There are two Tortallans heading for your pitifully governed country now. One of them is perfect sacrifice material." 

The gem glowed brightly, and he began to blur. 

"Do not fail me," he commanded, before he was pulled completely into the gem.

"Yes, Master," Sha'sa'in whispered. 

~*~****

**Er…yeah. That WAS weird. Oh well. At least it's an update ^.^. Heh…R/R, please.                     **


	9. The Assassin and the Pirate

**Hey all! What's cooking? Remember me? No-No? You DON'T?? Figures…**

**I forgot who it was, but someone pointed out that Kel wasn't a knight, so she could be no sacrifice. Seems I'll have to find a loophole around here, or switch the plot around. Wait…there is no plot. I'm making this up as I go along. Thanks O kind reviewer who saved me from making a total and complete fool of myself. kisses**

The _Mageskull_ sidled up alongside the Sorcerer's _Mistress_, spraying seawater on the deck. Among those splashed was a startling handsome red-haired, emerald-eyed man, rugged, cold, unreachable, a sword at his hip and a dagger up his sleeve. As the opposing ship sailed forward, he was suddenly face to face with another man, contrasting sharply to himself, complete with an eye patch and braided hair and leathery skin. It was the assassin and the pirate, old friends and new enemies.

"Hello, Frenn," Captain Murray sneered. Behind him his crew muttered obscenities.

Frenn nodded curtly. "Lucas." His own crew cried oaths and slurred their foes' mothers' honor.

"I see we meet."

"Once again."

"Where's Keladry?" a young male voice shrilled over the cackle of rough men. Frenn looked sharply at the voice's owner, but all he caught was a delicate blond figure being pushed behind the crowd.

"On the ship," he replied coolly. "Who wants to know?"

"J—"

The voice was muffled, as though he was gagged.

"Give us the girl, Frenn," Murray snarled, "and no one gets hurt."

"I have strict orders not to."

"Give us the—"

"Somebody take the kid below deck before he wears his tongue out," the captain snapped wearily.

There was a thud, like a blow to the head, a groan and a thump. Frenn suppressed a wince. The little warrior was safe as safe could be, hiding in the supply room, and Arden was more than ample protection.

"Who was it?"

"None of your business," Murray said icily. "Before I kill you, answer me this: who assigned you the task of killing my Anesia."

"That is classified information."

"Classified my arse! Tell me, immediately!"

"Let's just say you were betrayed."

"I know I was betrayed—betrayed by you, my own flesh and blood!"

"We are not related. Not anymore."

"You've got that right. I refuse to acknowledge my own brother—my own twin—deceived me so horribly."

"It was not I, Lucas."

"Don't call me by my given name. That's reserved for my ma and my closest friends."

"So you deny our blood."

"I don't deny our blood. I deny _you_."

"Then die at my sword."

A clash of metal, a ringing scream…the battle began. Arden was crouched behind some barrels, a yard or two away from Kel, who was huddled between bags of flour. He fiddled carelessly with a dagger, the sharp metallic blade weaving between his slender fingers easily. She fixed her gaze on his face, and briefly forgot about the life and death situation. His curly hair shadowed a smooth face hardened with Fate's dark decisions, crystallized with clear blue eyes. He was handsome, and hardly older than Kel herself.

_Snap out of it, Mindelan, _she admonished._ He's helping your captor…don't fantasize. _

"Arden?" she whispered.

The barest hint of a nod was all that proved he heard her.

"What's going on?"

"Frenn and the Black Bandit Captain must have met," he replied quietly.

"I don't get it," she hissed. "Well, I mean, I get it, but, I mean, Frenn makes it seem like this is more personal than it should be."

"It is," Arden said, finally tearing his gaze away from the door. "Assassin Frenn and Captain Lucas are—or were, really—twins, identical to the bone. That's why it's so upsetting for the Captain. His own brother killed his daughter. She was eleven. Only eleven."

"You sound like you're against Frenn."

"Anything but. I'm proud to be his nephew and loyal servant."

"Nephew?" she squeaked, startled. So many secrets…will Frenn never cease to surprise her? "Did Lucas have another child?"

"No. He had a younger sister. She had me when she was thirteen. She died in labor. Frenn took me in, raising me. I grew up knowing nothing but him. The captain is my uncle, but I hate him. I don't know him like I know Frenn."

This was getting confusing…there were so many questions…so few answers.

As suddenly as it stopped the clashing war ceased. Arden stiffened eagerly, hand tight on the dagger.

The door swung open, and a man staggered in, covered in blood.

****

**Sorry so short. Oh well. At least it's an update. Review!  **


	10. Arden

> **So sorry there was lack of details in the last chappie. Or lack of everything, for that matter. Did you know I got flamed for my story Vow of Blood (sorta) by some person called Val Mora on Fictionpress? It was very depressing. Oh well. School's out, so I'll be posting more often. Now, everyone who has read a Death Goddess Assassin fic, let's all continuously IM her to make her update!**
> 
> **Disclaimer: I own nobody. Except Frenn and all them people. **
> 
> "Frenn!"
> 
> It was strange to feel nothing but relief to see the man who kidnapped her. Frenn nodded grimly at her and winced painfully. Arden grabbed one arm and threw it around his shoulder for support.
> 
> "Is everything okay?" he asked worriedly. "Did we beat 'em?"
> 
> "For now, yes. We were able to hold them off. There were many casualties, including Darrl—"
> 
> Arden lowered his head, and Kel pitied him. He and the old man had become very close.
> 
> "—and a few others." The assassin turned to look at her. "Are you okay, little warrior?"
> 
> "I'm fine. But what about you?" Why was she so concerned?
> 
> _Because you have begun to like him._
> 
> "Oh, most of it isn't even my blood," he said dismissively. "What is came from the gash my brother darling gave to me as his parting gift when we began to catapult fireballs on board their ship."
> 
> "I can't believe you two are brothers," Kel said quietly. "You're so…different. And then you killed his daughter—_you're_ niece."
> 
> A shadow of pain crossed his face and he looked away. "I…" His mouth closed, and he looked down. He grimaced in pain, and clutched his arm.
> 
> She wanted to hate this man, an assassin who killed his niece and was assigned to murder her. But she found she just couldn't.
> 
> "You couldn't _find_ her?"
> 
> "No, and don' yell at meh. 'Twasn't ma fault."
> 
> "Then who's was it, nitwit?"
> 
> Joren fumed and ranted around the cabin. His bunkmates, five or six sailors, stared at him, amused, as he fussed at one of them.
> 
> "I tole ya, 'twasn't—"
> 
> "I specifically told you to ignore anybody who insulted you or tried to harm you. One of Fran's men looks at you different and you go nuts. So, no girl; no coins."
> 
> "Oh come off it," Gil protested. "I tried, I really did."
> 
> "Sure, Gil," a man chuckled. "And ma name is Captain Lucas Murray."
> 
> "Shut it, Snipe," Gil grumbled. "I know your mother, I do, since I've been in her house more than you'll know."
> 
> Even Joren agreed this was a good jibe as he snickered. Gil shouted and leaped on Snipe angrily, and immediately the whole thing was dropped.
> 
> Leaning over the rail, feeling the ocean spray gently slap her face, Kel never heard him come up behind her.
> 
> "You'll fall if you do that."
> 
> She jumped and wheeled around, relaxing slightly when she saw it was just Arden, gazing at her from beneath his gold lashes. His eyes reflected the glow of the candle he held, burning a fiery pale amber. For some reason she was acutely aware of the fact he had nothing but breeches on, and she was still in her nightshirt.
> 
> "I-I wouldn't."
> 
> Arden moved up beside her, his body so close behind her she could feel his body heat. Her breath quickened. She suddenly realized she felt the same whenever she was around Neal. She resisted a groan._ Please, don't let me have a crush on Arden!_
> 
> His hand was suddenly on the back of her neck, and she was helpless to resist as he gently cradled it, drawing it to his face. Their lips met for a timid, soft kiss, then melted into something more passionate.
> 
> With a swift jolt she grasped what was happening, and reluctantly pushed away. His blue eyes, gray with desire, bore into hers and the words of protest died on her tongue. He pulled her back into her embrace and forced his lips on hers, his tongue invading her mouth. One hand slipped up to fondle her buttocks as the other firmly but not aggressively touched her breast. Finally she moaned, and grabbed his shoulders to keep from falling.
> 
> This time it was he that broke the passion, drawing away, bare chest heaving, face flushed, his entire body trembling.
> 
> "Keladry…" he whispered, running his fingers through her hair. He grabbed her hand, and gently tugged at it. She hesitated, then followed him nervously, fearfully, and willingly to his room.
> 
> _I wonder what Kel is doing now…_
> 
> "Who cares," he said out loud to the darkness.
> 
> "For the last time, kid, shut up!"
> 
> "Yeah. You talk again we'll throw you out!"
> 
> Joren blushed. He really needed to learn to control his speech. Sometimes it got a little out of hand.
> 
> "I'm sorry," he consented meekly.__
> 
> _See, now look what you made me do!_
> 
> _It wasn't my fault. Don't blame me for your doings._
> 
> _Why, why did my conscience have to come back after all these years?_
> 
> _I was always there, Joren. You just locked me in a little house in your mind._
> 
> _What did you do? Burn it down?_
> 
> _No, of course not._
> 
> Joren sniffed and rolled over.__
> 
> _I blew it up. _
> 
> __
> 
> ****
> 
> ****
> 
> ****
> 
> **So…how was it? Good? Bad? No, I did NOT expect to put the whole Arden-Kel thing in there…it just happened. But don't worry.**
> 
> ****
> 
> **I've got it all planned out.**


	11. The Priests of the Dark

**Did y'all expect the little Arden/Kel? I didn't. I swear, I didn't even realize I was POSTING it until I read the Preview in the Document Manager thing…oh well. . It'll create suspense. Especially when you read the later chapters…I have something special planned for them. Oh, and I'll be posting another fic pretty soon. -- I know, I know…but I can't help it. And are my fics original? I'm tearing my hair out, wondering if they're not. It's so ANNOYING!!! Ahem. Carry on.**

**Kassi: I wondered about the whole divider thing! I'll think of something…hmm…Short?? At least it's an UPDATE!! I oughta just take off this whole fic! .**

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When Keladry woke up the next morning, she was stunned to find a long sinewy arm wrapped around her waist, and to feel herself pressed up against a warm naked body. She was even more shocked to find that it was Arden, and she too was nude.

She turned her head to look at him. He was so handsome…his blond curls, sincere crystalline eyes, finely arched dark blond eyebrows, firm nose, bow-shaped lips…truth be told, she had never seen anyone so attractive. Not even Neal, or Joren.

"Arden," she whispered into his ears, poking him gently in his stomach.

His thick lashes fluttered.

"Arden," she persisted.

Finally his bleary eyes opened to focus unclearly on her. For a moment, when he looked dumbstruck, she was afraid he was going to jump out of bed, yelling at her, calling her a whore or something. But then he smiled so sweetly…and he looked so happy…

_What's this ache I feel?_ She wondered._ Every time he looks at me like that it hurts so much, because I'm afraid it'll be the last._

_Could it…Could it be that I feel more for him than just infatuation?_

Arden brushed a tendril of hair out of her eyes, kissing her softly on the nose, and then rolling out of bed. Blushing, she watched his bare body slink across the room toward his clothes. He dressed, and turned to look at her.

"My rooms are the coolest," he said quietly. "And it's gonna be boilin' out today. So feel free to come in any time, and wear some of my clothes if you like, since you don't have any others."

He stared at her for a couple more seconds, watching her with warm eyes and a tender smile, then disappeared outside.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"The Cap'n's badly wounded," Kris declared. "He may not make it."

This announcement was met with a stunned, appalled silence. Joren calmly spread slightly rancid butter over a moldy slice of bread and stuffed it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. He was wearing a bright red bandana around his head to keep the hair out of his eyes. His attire was made solely of a pair of thin breeches. As a joke last night someone—he was not yet sure who—had poked a needle through his ear lobe and stuck a gold hoop in there. Since he thought it added a touch of tough class, he kept it there.

"Are you…are you sure?" Pincer whispered hoarsely. "I mean…how can you tell?"

"It's pretty obvious, Pincer," Kris replied quietly. "Frenn stabbed him in several places, and he's been having severe convulsions."

Some of the men bowed their heads mournfully. One burst out angrily, "That dirty, rotten, cheatin' assassin! He killed his own brother!"

Almost immediately an uproar resounded, as some screamed their fury and others stifled sobs. Joren, fed up, stood on a table and whistled sharply and shrilly.

It quieted.

"Honestly," he snapped, "you children act like your mama's dead and gone! Let me tell you something—there was never a for sure. It was only a maybe. The Captain may live yet, with some proper care."

"And who's gonna give it to 'em, mate?" one said cockily.

"Well…I will."

"Oh, come off it! You're no more a healer than I am!"

"Are you so sure?"

Apparently, there was no answer to this, and so Joren stumbled off the table to face Kris.

"Take me to him," he ordered.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"We're almost there."

Kel blinked sleepily to look quizzically up at Frenn.

"Are you serious?" she asked stupidly.

"Of course. Carthak is not far from our home of Tortall."

(AN: Yeah, yeah, I know Carthak is probably WAAAAAAAY farther than that, but I want this to get the show on the road! Woo!)

"I thought it was further."

"You thought wrong."

Kel fell silent. Frenn was impossible to argue with, or even contradict. He was so confident and serious about everything. She tried to think of one time she had seen him give someone a genuine, meaningful smile, and could not.

"You slept with Arden."

Startled, she looked up at him. He kept his gaze out on the horizon.

"P-Pardon?"

"You slept with Arden," he repeated simply.

"How…how did you know?"

"You are wearing his clothes, and besides, I saw you two last night, on deck."__

_How…awkward._

"Oh," she managed weakly.

"Everybody knows, too," Frenn continued.

She frowned.

"Why? How?"

"I don't know, I'm not a god. Someone may have heard you, or seen you, as I have. I promise, though, I did not breathe a word."

"Frenn! _Frenn_!"

"What _is_ it, Glenn?"

"A ship is comin' up on the starboard side!"

"Damn it, Lucas again?" the assassin hissed.

"No suh, it's the _Abra Kadabra_!"

"The _Abra Kadabra_," Frenn whispered. For the first time, he looked mildly unnerved. "The ship that houses the black spirits…on it rides the Priests of the Dark."

"What?" Kel asked, confused.

"They are the disciples of Lesenac, a bastard-god."

"I'm still terribly confused."

"Flee, child," Frenn murmured. He screamed, "Arden!"

"Yes sir?" Arden called, jogging toward him.

"Take the lifeboat. Take Keladry far away from here, and paddle hard. Hard and fast. Get her away from the Dark Priests, at any rate."

Arden paled visibly. "Right away sir."

He grabbed Kel's hand and pulled her with him.

"Flee to the Carthak capital, and wait for me there!"

"Yes sir!"

Relentlessly Arden shoved her in a small lifeboat and undid the ropes that held it. He tumbled inside it before it he cut the last two ropes, and they fell with a watery splash. The sky above them turned gray with a blackly bitter malice, and around them, waterspouts took form.

It was then that Kel noticed a ship slipping between two of the spouts, and coming at an impossibly fast rate toward them. It moved so quick, considering the fact that the wind was not in their favor, and that their sails were torn and ragged.

At the head of it stood fifty-odd men, each armed with a spear and watching the Sorcerer's Mistress with empty, soulless eyes.    


	12. Neal's Decision

> **Hee . Glad someone noticed the little bit of Pirates of the Caribbean. That's, like, one of my favorite movies! Captain Jack Sparrow is the coolest! Whoot!**
> 
> **Yes, I know Kel would probably NOT be that easy but…this is fanfiction, peoples! And besides that, it's MY story!! MINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINE!!!!! So get over it!**
> 
> **Disclaimer: What do you think? **
> 
> - - - - - - - - - -
> 
> Kris opened the door to a dimly lit room. Inside it, the air was thick with the scents of herbs and sickness. There was a bed in the far right corner, and on it lay Lucas, chest rising and falling with labored breathing. He moaned and twitched violently.
> 
> Joren swallowed hard. He was a fool to have lied to them, saying he knew how to heal. Why, he couldn't even bandage a scrape! But if he failed, they would blame him…
> 
> "Leave me," he said quietly.
> 
> "I'm 'fraid I can't do that," the man said. "We dunno if we can trust the likes of your noble bum yet."
> 
> "Then the death of your captain will burden your shoulders forever," Joren snapped. "I work alone."
> 
> Kris paused, fidgeting as he thought. Slowly he nodded, and backed away. "Very well, then. But if we find poison in his food or water, or a dagger in his heart, we'll blame it all on you."
> 
> After one last, menacing glare, he shut the door. Joren shook his head and turned to Lucas.
> 
> "Oh, joy," he muttered. "Where can I start?"__
> 
> _First, maybe you should take off those dirty clothes and those makeshift bandages. They'll just get his injuries infected._
> 
> _Wow…thanks!_
> 
> "That was weird," he said aloud. However, he moved toward the Black Bandit captain, his hands poised. The man moaned in agony and writhed.
> 
> The boy hesitated, then carefully began unbuttoning his shirt. The stink of blood and infection rose to meet him, and he winced in horror. Rapidly switching from breathing through his nose to breathing through his mouth, he abandoned unbuttoning it and began to tear it off in shreds. This was almost as impossible as the buttons were: the cloth kept sticking to the drying blood, and it would come off the skin with a faint rip.
> 
> While he took off the man's clothes, he began to think about how this mess came about.__
> 
> _Well, it's mostly your fault._
> 
> _It is not! I just wanted to rid myself of Keladry!_
> 
> _Exactly…you wanted to take the life of an innocent child._
> 
> _She's not a child…_
> 
> _She's a fourth-year. She's not a little girl; but she is a child._
> 
> _My reasons were just!_
> 
> _Your reasons? Just? Ha! That's a laugh. You just wanted to be rid of her so you could be the favorite again. When she was around, she came in first. Always. You're just jealous!_
> 
> _I am not. Everybody would have thanked me!_
> 
> _Everybody would have_ hated _you. Face it, Joren. You only wanted her dead because you're jealous of her._
> 
> _Not true!_
> 
> _True. Why, you could even have become friends with her. I bet she's a nice person. Everybody else seems to like her._
> 
> _Go figure._
> 
> _See? You _are_ jealous!_
> 
> _I am not!_
> 
> _You are too._
> 
> _You're just a conscience. What do you know?_
> 
> _I'm_ your _conscience, Joren! But I won't argue with you. Your logic is inane and stupid._
> 
> "I'm not jealous," he hissed furiously, but this time his head gave no reply.
> 
> And he knew Conscience was right.
> 
> - - - - - - - - - -
> 
> Neal walked to his window, looking up at the sky with sad emerald eyes and wondering if maybe his best friend Kel was watching the same sun. She had been gone for days now…he had long since lost count. Without her sunny face and brightly lit eyes, nothing seemed worth it anymore.
> 
> A wry smile touched his lips. He had gone from being her sponsor to her big brother. It was strange to think he had once belittled her behind her back as others had when he first met her. As he got to know her, he stopped. Now she was the world to him, his little sister he could not do without.
> 
> "Where are you?" he said to the bush outside his window. "What are you doing now?"
> 
> "Neal?"
> 
> He did not acknowledge the inquiry, but knew it was his father Duke Baird that entered his room.
> 
> "Neal?"
> 
> He continued to stare out the window.
> 
> "Neal, you have to eat."
> 
> "Why bother," he said bitterly, feeling the sorrow constrict in his throat. "It's not worth it anymore."
> 
> "Nealan, you talk of Keladry as though she is surely dead! But do you know for sure?"
> 
> "Then where is she, Father?" Neal cried, wheeling around. "Where is she, huh?"
> 
> "Neal—"
> 
> "She's dead, Father," he whispered dully. "She has to be…"
> 
> And finally, Neal permitted himself to cry. All those tears, breaking through the fragile damn, spilled over his cheeks in crystal streams as he sobbed for the best friend he ever had.
> 
> Baird pulled his son in a tight embrace, resting his cheek on the crown of light brown hair. "It's alright, Neal. But remember this: Keladry is strong. If she is threatened, she won't give up without a fight. Pray for her, Neal. Pray for her life and her strength."
> 
> Neal pulled away and looked up at his father with hurting eyes. "I love her, Father." At Baird's stricken look he shook his head. "Not like that, but I love her more than life itself. She's like my little twin—she knows me better than anyone. She's kept me up when I was down, and healed my broken heart too many times to count. She was always there when I needed her most—and when she needed me, I wasn't there!"
> 
> _Ah_, Baird realized with a pang._ He's hurting, he's sad, and he's guilty. _
> 
> "It was not your fault, Neal," he said sternly. His son turned away. "It could not have been prevented. Keladry was kidnapped, that much we know. If you had been there, what would have stopped the kidnapper from killing you? Kel is not dead for sure—but you would have been. And when Kel would have come back, how do you think she would have felt when she realized that her best friend, her bigger twin, was gone? For sure? There's nothing you can do, Neal, except pray for her."
> 
> Neal tore away from him, shaking with suppressed sobs. Baird took his cue and finally exited.
> 
> _He's wrong_, the brunette thought suddenly._ I _can _do something. _
> 
> Neal straightened_. I can go after her. I don't know where she is, but I'll find her. And I'll kill anybody who stands in my way._
> 
> - - - - - - - - - - ****
> 
> **Well…this is interesting. Neal's such a dumbass, you know? It's cute though. No, it won't be a Neal/Kel, so turn back now if you're offended. But Neal will be playing an important part in this story…I think. I haven't got it all figured out QUITE yet. Oh well. I know these recent chapters are awfully short, and I'm sorry, but I can't help it. And I know a lot of you are mad about the lack of the Dark Priests in this chapter. Truth is, I couldn't figure out what should happen next. xx Sorry! Review. **


	13. The Dark Priests' Request

> **Okay, I shall make an attempt to define everything that happens to Arden and Kel. I know what's going to happen afterwards, but I've no clue how to put the present stuff in words…oh well. Hey, Wake-Robin—I put you on my profile along with Kassi. You guys are the coolest. . I'll get to the others eventually.**
> 
> **Disclaimer: I own nothing. I own nothing. I own nothing. I own nothing. I own nothing. Okay, I'm good for four more chapters.**
> 
> - - - - - - - - - -
> 
> The sky was a swirling mass of sinfully evil clouds. Lightning cracked with wicked intent, and thunder roared its horror. Waves crashed up against the _Abra Kadabra_ and the _Sorcerer's Mistress_, and many threatened to overturn a little lifeboat that fled the scene. Neither of the younglings in there were more than eighteen.
> 
> "What's going on, Arden?" Keladry screamed, sputtering through some salty sea spray. "Why are we running? Who are they?"
> 
> "I'll explain it all later," Arden yelled, his arms contracting heavily as they paddled with the oars. "Right now, we've got to get out of here!"
> 
> Waterspouts were forming by the dozen. There were so many waterspouts so close together that there was no space between them, save a gap about a mile wide. The hole was rapidly diminishing as waterspouts rose from the water in turbulent monstrosity.
> 
> (AN: Check out all these awesome describing words!)
> 
> The ship called _Abra Kadabra _made its way straight toward the _Sorcerer's_ _Mistress_, not halting, simply flowing forward as though it meant to crash. Faintly Kel was aware of her lover murmuring "Oh gods oh gods oh gods oh gods" but she heard nothing else than the cry of the spouts and the howl of the wind. These men, these Priests of the Dark, were after them…why?
> 
> "Hold on, Keladry!" Arden shouted. "I'm going to try for that break in the spouts!"
> 
> - - - - - - - - - -
> 
> "Ew."
> 
> A cringing Joren wiped his hand on a cloth and stepped clear of Lucas' vomit. The Black Bandit captain had taken fever and a severe stomach ailment, but his convulsions had stopped and he breathed easier. Joren was covered in blood, pale and sweaty, but strangely triumphant.
> 
> "How's it goin'?" Kris asked, sticking his head inside. The blond squire did not look at him.
> 
> "He's much better. After I replaced the bandages and clothes with new, _clean_ ones, he cleared up some. He's succumbed to a stomach complaint, I'm afraid, and a rather severe fever, but given a few more days' rest he'll be the same captain."
> 
> Relief radiated from the much older man's face. It was evident in the broad smile and the lit eyes. Lucas Murray meant a lot to his crew apparently…he was more than just their captain; he was their friend.
> 
> "Kris!"
> 
> Annoyed, Kris turned around and said irritably, "What do you want, Ray?"
> 
> Ray was behind the door, so Joren could not see him, but he could clearly hear his shrill voice.
> 
> "There are some storms up ahead. We need to turn around."
> 
> He frowned. "But the day's clear," he voiced.
> 
> "I know," Kris said. "Are you sure?"
> 
> "I'm positive. There are hundreds of waterspouts lined for about a mile or two. If we don't turn around now we'll head straight for them."
> 
> Kris swore. "Mithros! What are you waiting for, boy?! Sound the alarm!"
> 
> "Y-Yes sir!"
> 
> - - - - - - - - - -
> 
> _Damn it all_, Frenn cursed to himself as he slipped on the deck again_. Gods, I hope the little warrior and my nephew will be safe…_
> 
> At the time being he was not sure if anybody would be safe. Arden and the chit would have the best chance of escaping, as they were already outside the spout ring. Or, so he hoped.
> 
> The _Abra Kadabra_ sidled up alongside his ship, not unlike the _Mageskull_ had, and four of the many men on board leaped over the gap between them to land gracefully on deck. The one in front was obviously the leader, as in addition to the spear he bore a scepter crowned with a rotting skull. They were all dressed in black, from their head to their feet, and each wore a blood red mask.
> 
> The leader stepped forward.
> 
> "We seek the girl called Keladry," he said coldly.
> 
> "She's not here," Frenn replied shortly.
> 
> "I highly doubt that," the other said softly. "Tell me where she is, and you shall not die."
> 
> "I can't very well do that, Dark Worshiper," the assassin murmured. "For all I know, she could be drowned six feet under. I sent her ahead with a trusted man to escape. She's gone now."
> 
> In razor-sharp fury the man screamed. All the lightning cracked and snapped like living, glowing whips. One streaked toward the _Sorcerer's Mistress_. Its tip touched the ship and it blew apart in thousands of shattering, broken shards.


	14. They're All Dead!

> **ossini: You really like Arden, don't you? Tee hee, don't worry, I'll give you a little more soon. gives ossini an Arden action figure**
> 
> **Kassi of Pirate's Swoop: Good job! You've picked up on all the hints. I don't like Emelan as much as Tortall, but every now and then I feel the urge to pick a Circle book up. And I'll TRY to write a super long chapter, or at least a longer one than I have been writing. If you find a long one in your Inbox one day, you'll know it's for you, 'k? And can we get dividers yet??? **
> 
> **basest-8: I told you I had big plans for this fic. Blowing up the ship is just a little taste of what's coming up. And yes, I know Kel ain't no knight. I've fixed that, and there's going to be a whole new change in the plot. Muaha.**
> 
> **Wake-Robin: I know, right? I was so stunned at all those describing words! It was so awesome! Hee hee, I read your review a couple seconds before I uploaded the chapter. It tickled me silly to think how surprised you be. .**
> 
> **So how's this story coming along? Interesting? Am I updating too fast? If you want I could slow down…**
> 
> **- - - - -**
> 
> "They blew it up," Keladry whispered, gripping the sides of the lifeboat. She shuddered violently. "They blew it all up."
> 
> Pale as death, his eyes shadowed with denial and shock, Arden continued to paddle the oars with fierce determination. They were almost out of the ring, but even the briefest delay could hinder their escape fatally.
> 
> "Frenn," she whispered. "Frenn…Oh gods…Arden, Frenn's dead! And, and Filip and Tronx and Bart and Whisper and Jax and Wester and Undle and—oh gods, they're all dead."
> 
> "Hush, Keladry," he whispered.
> 
> "We should go back! There may be some left! Go back, I said!" she cried hysterically. She was as unreasonable and wild as the raging storm, although it was dying gradually and her insanity was growing.
> 
> "Keladry! We can't go back! The Priests are still over there, on their ship!"
> 
> "Then we'll kill them all! We'll fight them! Go back! _Go back, dammit_!"
> 
> And she collapsed in a puddle of tears, bawling for those she had begun to love. They had kidnapped her, taken her away from the only ones she knew, and they had become like family to her. And now, once again, she was taken away?
> 
> (AN: I don't think Kel would become hysterical. But I don't care. It's MY story, right?)
> 
> "Keladry," Arden soothed, his voice hardly heard above the storm. "Don't let this disaster cloud your better judgment. I have a map with me. I'll approximate our location and I'll turn us toward Carthak. There we'll find some of Frenn's men so they can…so they can…"
> 
> A look of stark horror crossed his face. "Oh, gods…I forgot the reason you're too be brought here."
> 
> Kel shivered from the reminder. She would die, no matter what. It mattered not which direction they went. To Carthak, she would be assassinated; to the remnants of the ship, picked up by the mysterious Priests of the Dark; any other way, dead from starvation or eaten by sharks.
> 
> Either way she was doomed.__
> 
> _- - - - -_
> 
> _What the…?_
> 
> "Did you hear that?" Joren asked Kris and his son, Morgan. They were on deck, watching the faraway storm rage.
> 
> "I didn'," Kris said, puzzled.
> 
> "I did," Morgan said. "It was a big old boom."
> 
> "Yeah, like something blew up."
> 
> "I wonder what."
> 
> Morgan was about Joren's age, give or take a couple months. He was dark, like his gypsy mother, with sharp black eyes and thick raven hair constantly tied back in a navy blue bandanna. He was pretty small, with a slight figure. Joren liked him a lot. The boy was strong, sometimes cruel to strangers, and he had been to Joren when they first met. But they got to know each other, and the squire was telling things to this gypsy boy he had never told anyone else.
> 
> "Maybe some pirates are fighting with cannonballs or something," Joren suggested.
> 
> "Maybe," Morgan said offhandedly. "It's not our problem though."
> 
> Joren grinned, and it faltered when he saw a red-orange flame streak upward into the black clouds.
> 
> "Something did blow up," Morgan concluded in awe. "Did you see that explosion? It blew after the lightning struck it!"
> 
> "I wonder what blew up?"
> 
> "A ship?" Kris offered.
> 
> "Or an island," Morgan said.
> 
> "Who cares?" Joren snapped, annoyed. "Look, the storm's dying. If we want to save time we should skirt around it instead of waiting for it to die completely. It won't be doing that anytime soon."
> 
> Morgan stared at him. "Who died and made you captain?"
> 
> Joren blushed and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."
> 
> "Good idea, though," Kris agreed. "You heard 'em, men! Get moving!"
> 
> - - - - -
> 
> They were coming.
> 
> Kel glanced nervously behind her with wide eyes. The _Abra_ _Kadabra_ splashed and roared toward them. Splintered debris of the blown ship tumbled around it.
> 
> "Paddle, Arden, paddle!" she screamed.
> 
> Arden looked up, his eyes round with fear, and paddled as fast as his arms could. It was not enough. The man in front lifted his skull-topped staff and yelled something in a completely different language.
> 
> A tidal wave formed in front of Kel and Arden. It climbed miles and miles high, its monstrous height intimidating.
> 
> Then it fell. It broke the lifeboat and tossed its inhabitants into the sea, where they disappeared beneath the surface.


	15. Frenn's Men

> **Must……hurry……up……and……finish……fic……I'm going to look experiment and see if I can find another divider, something more…attractive. Any suggestions?**
> 
> - - - - -
> 
> Joren leaned over the side of the ship, open-mouthed in horror. A piece of debris floated by. It was very large, and it was carved with the words _Sorcerer's_ _Mistress_. He watched with a sinking heart and growing despair as other chunks of wood drifted around.
> 
> "Oh my gods," he whispered. A man wafted by, his face blackened from fire and his sightless eyes wide and empty.
> 
> "Joren…"
> 
> He turned slowly at the sound of Morgan's voice. His dark eyes were stunned and scared.
> 
> "Joren, I'm…I'm so sorry. There's no way she could have survived this."
> 
> "No," the blond whispered. "No, she, she _had_ to."
> 
> "Joren—"
> 
> "Leave me alone."
> 
> "Joren, listen to me—"
> 
> "I don't want to. I don't want to listen to _anybody_ anymore!"
> 
> It was the fact that Joren killed an innocent soul that got him. The Mindelan slut was a girl, a bitch, and a stiff…but she was still an innocent.
> 
> She was just an innocent child.
> 
> If he had not assigned the man—was his name Frenn? Fran?—to kill her none of this would have happened. She would have gone on to be a knight, alive and free. But he had stuck his nose in her business, taken away any chance she had of having a good life.
> 
> Or any life at all.
> 
> Mindelan could have had a husband. Goldenlake, maybe, or Kennan. She and Queenscove could have still been friends.__
> 
> What would her family be like?
> 
> By destroying her, he had destroyed everybody.
> 
> "_Kel!_" he screamed in anguish, dropping to his knees. "What have I done?"
> 
> Morgan put a tentative hand on his friend's shoulder.
> 
> "There's nothing you can do now, Joren," he said gently. "We'll turn around and go back. If you're charged with murder by the Tortallan Court we'll come get you."
> 
> "No," Joren whispered. "No. I need to face my punishment. I'd deserve it. I'd deserve whatever given to me."
> 
> - - - - -
> 
> "Rosie, come here!"
> 
> A little blond girl called to her friend. Rosie tucked a tendril of red hair behind her ear and looked at Molly. "Why?"
> 
> "There's a girl here."
> 
> "What?"
> 
> Rosie dropped the bouquet of daisies and hurried to her friend's side. A much older girl lay at the water's edge, tangled in seaweed, eyes closed. She had a delicate and freckled nose and lashes that fanned across her cheek like spiders. The girl's short hair was hard to determine, but it appeared to be some kind of brown or dark blond. She did not like she was breathing.
> 
> "Who is it?" Rosie whispered in awe.
> 
> "I don't know," Molly murmured in a hushed voice. "She's not from around here at any rate."
> 
> "Her name is Keladry of Mindelan."
> 
> The two girls gasped and turned around. About ten to fifteen men stood behind them, smirking smugly and glowering at them with deadly eyes while they fingered daggers or swords.
> 
> "Who are you?" Molly asked fearfully, clutching Rosie's hand anxiously.
> 
> The man smiled menacingly. "You worst nightmare."
> 
> - - - - -
> 
> An hour later a village woman came trotting through the sand. She found two bloody children laying on the sand, naked, despoiled, beaten, and utterly dead. There was no sign of another girl.
> 
> - - - - -
> 
> "Get outta ma way, men, I'm gonna ride this bitch."
> 
> "No way, Orgden! You're always the first one!"
> 
> Orgden glanced over at his fellow assassin snidely. "Because you're too chicken to do it first."
> 
> Jesse clenched his fists. "That's not true!"
> 
> "Sure, Jesse," the man smirked. "You wouldn't have the guts to touch a woman, much less ride one!"
> 
> "Shut up!" Jesse screamed, shaking with fury.
> 
> "Fine, if you're gonna chicken out then get me a whip. I'll whip her. And after she's whupped, you can ride her, okay?"
> 
> - - - - -
> 
> The moon cast shimmering silver on the water. Nothing was heard except the gentle lapping of the waves, and the occasional thump of broken ship against the _Mageskull_.
> 
> And the creak of wood as a lifeboat was lowered from its ropes into the sea.
> 
> "Joren, are you sure this is a good idea?" Morgan asked nervously, peering around in the gloom. "I don't like this."
> 
> "Kel's alive," Joren said stubbornly. "I can feel it."
> 
> He did not question how he knew, anymore than he wondered why he no longer called her Mindelan, even in his thoughts.
> 
> "I'm going to save her, Morgan," he whispered. "I'm going to rescue her."
> 
> Morgan stared at his fair friend worriedly, thoughtfully, noting the change in him.
> 
> "Come on, Morgan," Joren said, beginning to climb down the rope ladder. "Let's go save her."
> 
> ****
> 
> - - - - -
> 
> **ARE YOU HAPPY? I CHANGED IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OKAY????????????????????????????? OKAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**


	16. Death's Shadows

mepb: Yeah. Joren does seem more Joren-ish when he's battling those inner angels. He gets a little OOC every now and then – and I'm sorry – but still. It's an update. Muaha.

I took out the whole Kel thing…I was getting too many negative reviews about that. So I changed it. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW???

I was going to say something but now I forgot. ::chases after runaway thought::

---------------------------------

_Pain_.

It ripped through her body. Her vision became blurry and dangerously dark. She would pass out soon, she knew. Her welts burned like a trail of fire, an inferno. Her back was afire, fiery, like criss-crossing roads of flames. 

"Get that whip off of her."

And then suddenly it stopped. Keladry ached, but it was dim now. She slowly opened her eyes, and focused them on the one who ordered them to stop.

"Frenn," she whispered.

---------------------------------

"Joren?"

No one replied. Kris sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He felt concerned for the noble kid; he was at fault for this mess, true, but not as much as he made it out to be.

He knocked on the cabin door again.

"Joren, please come out."

"He's not in there."

Kris turned.

"Why not?" he asked Gil.

Gil replied, "He went out last night, and never came back in."

"Do ya know where—"

"Kris, Morgan isn't in 'is cabin either," Tharon huffed, jogging up to his friend's side. "And the life boat's gone."

"Gods damn," Kris said in awe. "They went out to get tha' wench."

Gil fidgeted. "Do you want me to inform the captain?"

"If he's awake," he replied. "If he's not don' waste your time. Tharon, inform the men to turn this ship around. We're goin' to Carthak to help 'em."

"But Kris," Tharon protested, "'Twas the Dark Priests that kilt 'em. I saw their ship meself, flying across the waves like the legendary _Black_ _Pearl_ is said to do. (AN: Teehee.) 'Twas them that blew up Frenn. If we go after 'em, we'll end up with the same fate as the _Sorcerer's_ _Mistress_."

"All the more reason to go."

"But Kris—"

"My son is going to Carthak, Tharon. That's where the Priests of the Dark dwell. Chances are, if they're to find that girl, they're to find the Priests too."

- - - - -

Joren spit on his hands and rubbed them together. As they rubbed up against each other he could feel the tough calluses and new blisters he acquired on the journey. Sweat ran down his face and dripped off his nose.

Morgan was worse, although he was dressed in less than Joren. His dark skin and hair and even his eyes attracted the sunlight. His sinewy arms were sweat-sticky and trembling with exhaustion.

"Can we rest?" he pleaded Joren. "Please? I don't wanna move anymore."

"Then wait here," Joren said curtly. "It'll be better if I go alone, and anyway, someone needs to watch the boat in case the tide gets high.

"Now wait a minute—"

"Just do as I say, gypsy."

Morgan shut his mouth with an audible click and straightened his spine. "Okay. I'll stay."

"Good. And have it ready in case we'll need a quick escape."

"Okay."

- - - - -

Sha'sa'in walked in front, his black robes billowing out around him like so many ravens, carrying the gem. He had followed the wounded emerald-eyed man to this cavern. He knew the man's name was Frenn, and that he was in possession of the Sacrifice.

Keladry.

Sacrifice.

_Immortality_.

Soon it would all be theirs. His faithful Priests of the Dark worshipped Lesenac as staunchly as he did. When they gained the immortality rightfully theirs, they could finally stimulate the belief of their Dark Lord in all of Carthak. The belief will spread, until all will forget there was ever a Mithros or a Goddess. They will know only Lesenac, and his Gift of despair and hate.

Gently he cradled the gem in his arms. Sha'sa'in was eternally scared he would drop it, and it would shatter. This gem was the life force of Lesenac. If it shattered, then so would he.

The Priests of the Dark moved silent as butterfly wings into the cave. They were met with a damp cavern tunnel, the only sound the occasional squeak of a bat or the echo of voices further down. Torches lined the sides of the cave, held in their brackets, casting a sinister glow across the floor, illuminating rats' hungry red eyes.

Like Death's shadows the men made their way down the dim tunnel, until they were met with a much brighter room, filled with people, mounted with gold and other treasures one could only dream of imagining.

On the floor to the left lay a boy with gold curls, face down, not breathing. A dagger stuck out from his back. The red-haired man kneeled next to him, a hand on the boy's hair, shaking silently.

"You killed him," he was saying. "You killed my nephew. Why? I thought you were loyal to me!"

"We were loyal to you, Frenn," one of the men cooed. "But then we realized we were nothing but loyal dogs who did everything you said without questions. We've decided to be our own men!

The Priest forced his gaze from the dead boy to the other side. There was the girl.

Keladry.

Sacrifice.

_Immortality_.

She was sitting up, sweaty, scared, and confused. She was the perfect sacrifice.

Sha'sa'in stepped forward. Eyes turned to look at him.

"I am Sha'sa'in, leader of the Priests of the Dark," he said. "Loyal follower of Lesenac, God of Terror, Destruction, Child of Uusoae the Chaos Wielder and Mynoss the Death God. We are here for Keladry."

- - - - -

Hmm…what do you think? Arden died, I know. Sucks, don't it? This is getting along pretty good I think. I wish the chapters were friggin longer but you can't choose your battles. That made no sense.

Oh yeah! I remember what I wanted to say! You know what would be weird? Alanna/Kel pairings. Me and Kassi had this discussion already. . It's kind of…freaky. And messed up. VERY messed up. ::shudder::

It'd be kinda cool though, if you think about it. It'd be the only pair of its kind. I think. That would be one seriously flamed story, though, lemme tell you know.    


	17. Sacrifice

> > **Okay, y'all. I edited the last two chapters. Kel is fine, just seriously whipped. Are you happy?**
>> 
>> **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**
>> 
>> **The story is almost through. In fact, this may be the last chapter, save the epilogue. Whoot!**
>> 
>> **_FOR KASSI OF PIRATE'S SWOOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_**
>> 
>> **Maybe it's not as K/J as I wanted it to be…**
>> 
>> - - - - -
>> 
>> Keladry blinked, once, twice, utterly confused. Who was this man? He was dressed in raven black robes that hung awfully on his thin frame, and he protectively embraced a large, egg-shaped, onyx-black gem in his arms. He wore no mask, nor did he carry a skull-topped staff, yet she knew he was the man who blew up the ship.
>> 
>> And he was after her.
>> 
>> _Everybody_ was after her. She needed security…her gaze, however much she tried to halt it, drifted toward Arden's still, prone body. Arden had given that to her. Now he was dead.
>> 
>> _Arden_.
>> 
>> "Why do you seek me?" she asked clearly.
>> 
>> The man—Sha'sa'in, he said his name was—smiled coldly.
>> 
>> "You are to be our sacrifice," he said in his strange, accented voice.
>> 
>> "S-Sacrifice?" On this word her voice faltered.
>> 
>> "Yes. We need you to gain our immortality."
>> 
>> "'Scuse me," a man—Orgden, she thought his name was—"but I don't recall permitting you to come into ma home."
>> 
>> Sha'sa'in looked calmly at him. "I don't need permission. I do what I want."
>> 
>> The gem's inside appeared to swirl, like a gypsy's crystal ball, a cloud in a stone.
>> 
>> Orgden screamed, clutching his face, his dirty, broken nails leaving furrows as he dragged them across his cheeks and eyes. Smoke poured from his ears as his eyes rolled upward. As though a match lit from inside him, his chest burst into flames, all of which swiftly ate the rest of his writhing, dying body.
>> 
>> Frenn shuddered.
>> 
>> - - - - -__
>> 
>> _Hiiiiiii._
>> 
>> _Ssshh! I'm trying to concentrate!_
>> 
>> _Joren, you're scratching your balls. Is that so time-consuming?_
>> 
>> Joren blushed and silently cursed himself. Who ever heard of a humiliating conscience?__
>> 
>> _No…which way is it?_
>> 
>> _Do I look like Mithros to you? I'm just a conscience._
>> 
>> _But you told me what to do with Lucas!_
>> 
>> _Think about it you imbecile. A conscience is just a part of your brain, your mind. It's a mental theory. In fact, it's hardly even real._
>> 
>> _I don't get it._
>> 
>> _Now I see why I'm always so warm in the winter—your big, dense, humongous head insulates me with its hard spongy skull!! I'm not even _real_, Joren. This whole time, it was _YOU_ who did all this. You and you alone are responsible for endangering Kel like this…and it is you who decided to save her. Not _me_, Jory. You. You found out how to keep me—your conscience—at bay for years. But this traumatic event thinned your barriers. I was never dead, Joren, and neither was I alive._
>> 
>> _So this whole time, I was arguing with myself?_
>> 
>> _Yes._
>> 
>> _How embarrassing. My own head reprimanded me for scratching my balls._
>> 
>> _It's okay, honey._
>> 
>> _I hope you're a girl. Calling me "honey" and all sorts of Kennan pet names._
>> 
>> _I'm not a girl._
>> 
>> _…_
>> 
>> _I'm not a boy either._
>> 
>> _?!?!_
>> 
>> _I'm sexless, you brainless blob._
>> 
>> _It's sad when your own head says you don't have a brain. _
>> 
>> Joren wasn't sure, but he was positive he heard a faint sigh somewhere in the back of his head.
>> 
>> _You don't, like, plan on leaving me or anything?_
>> 
>> _Not unless you want me to. You've blocked me out for about eleven years. You can do it again._
>> 
>> The idea was tempting. But he wondered about how much company Conscience had been when he was lonely.__
>> 
>> _Alright. I'll keep you._
>> 
>> _Yay. _
>> 
>> _Just…keep it down, okay? Some mind-reader may look into my head and die of a heart attack. I would, if I saw someone arguing with their own head._
>> 
>> _Hm. Just face it. You'd miss me._
>> 
>> _No way in hell._
>> 
>> _Admit it._
>> 
>> _I'd kiss Kel before I do that._
>> 
>> _That's not too unlikely…_
>> 
>> _What's THAT supposed to mean?!_
>> 
>> Joren never got a response, either because Conscience did not have one or because he reached the end of the tunnel and did not hear it.
>> 
>> What he saw left a scar on his brain forever.
>> 
>> Men in fluttering robes kneeled around a glowing black gem. One, armed with a skull-capped staff, rested his hands on it, and chanted under his breath.
>> 
>> A red-haired man—presumably Frenn, the assassin—had flattened himself up against the cave wall. He clutched a dead boy against his chest.
>> 
>> And Keladry…she hung from hopes behind the ring of men, the gem centered in front of her.
>> 
>> "What the bloody hell is going on here?" he shrieked.
>> 
>> The chanting stopped as the men turned toward him. Kel looked up, wide-eyed.
>> 
>> "Joren," she murmured.
>> 
>> "Kel, look," he pleaded. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sososososososososo sorry! This is all my fault…I should never have hired that stupid assassin!"
>> 
>> "It's okay, Joren," she replied distantly, her face Yamani blank.
>> 
>> _Stupid foreign savages_.
>> 
>> "Get out of here, or join Frenn," the man touching the gem said. "Or you shall perish as they have."
>> 
>> He pointed to a pile of bones, much of which had skin clinging to it. Since Joren had no intention of fleeing or dying, he edged toward the emerald-eyed man against the wall.
>> 
>> "Who're you?" the redhead asked. His eyes never left the men, who had resumed their chanting.
>> 
>> "Joren of Stone Mountain."
>> 
>> Frenn jerked and whisked his head around to stare at him. "_You're_ Joren? _You_ are the one who ordered me to do this?"
>> 
>> Joren shifted uncomfortably.
>> 
>> "Um…yes?"
>> 
>> He sighed and ran his fingers through his carroty hair. "And you're the one who talked to me the night I took her weren't you? It was that Joren after all."
>> 
>> "Yes."
>> 
>> The assassin nodded, and stroked the dead boy's cheek softly. "This was my nephew."
>> 
>> Joren wriggled. He came here for Kel, not to listen to some guy get all teary over his dead nephew.
>> 
>> "How can we help Kel?" he asked the assassin.
>> 
>> "My poor nephew," Frenn murmured. "Poor, poor Arden." He looked at Joren with eyes of a madman.
>> 
>> Joren stared at him, and slid away. Whatever sanity this man had was lost forever. Quite obviously, it was up to him alone to save Kel.
>> 
>> Suddenly there was a flash of black light. He yelled and threw himself back. His head hit the wall hard. With a groan he sunk down onto the ground, his vision swimming, and passed out into a darkness as black as the Priests' robes.
>> 
>> - - - - -
>> 
>> When he came to, a man stood over him, hard eyes twinkling at him from their cold blue depths.
>> 
>> "Well now," he said softly. "Did you come to save my sacrifice? Tut. You came too late."
>> 
>> Alarmed, Joren looked around. Kel was out of the ropes, but held in place by Sha'sa'in and one other.
>> 
>> "Master Lesenac, she is ready," Sha'sa'in called.
>> 
>> Lesenac nodded and smiled, tossing his mane of ash blond hair away from his face. "Very well then."
>> 
>> Joren swallowed thickly as the man walked off. He was obviously neither immortal nor man. And yet he was not a god…not completely anyway.
>> 
>> Lesenac stopped in front of Kel. He opened his mouth…but it did not halt like normal mouths do. It kept opening and opening, expanding its height, until it was big enough to swallow Kel whole.__
>> 
>> _Oh…my…gods._
>> 
>> "Kel!" he shrieked.
>> 
>> "Shatter the gem!" Frenn hissed. "It's his life force!" He stood up. His eyes were clearer, but still not quite sane. "Let's get them. We need to break that skull staff. As soon as we do the Priests will be powerless."
>> 
>> At that moment something streaked past both of them. Something with black braided hair and an eye patch…
>> 
>> "Lucas," Frenn whispered. He balled his hands into fists. "Lucas, get out of here! It's not your battle!"
>> 
>> Captain Lucas Murray glared at his brother with eyes as insane as his. "It is my battle. I used to be a Priest of the Dark, I know what they think." He looked away, at Lesenac, who had closed his mouth to glower at the Black Bandit captain. "I was betrayed," he said softly, dangerously, his crazy eyes glittering dangerously. "Just not by whom I thought."
>> 
>> "Lucas—"
>> 
>> "Fight with me, brother. Let's die together."
>> 
>> Frenn choked.
>> 
>> "As touched as I am by this reunion," Lesenac sneered, "I would prefer this to wait so I can finish this rite in peace."
>> 
>> Lucas turned to him, his fists clenched with hate. "She's not the one you want, Dark Master," he said steadily. Frenn moved up beside him.
>> 
>> "She's pure of heart," the bastard-god said coolly.
>> 
>> "But she is not a knight," the captain said calmly.
>> 
>> Lesenac blinked.
>> 
>> "You want me," Frenn said clearly, stepping forward. "I am Sir Frenn of Tirragen, son of Alexander of Tirragen and Lady Nicholaa of Raven's Pond."
>> 
>> Lesenac blinked again, then turned silently to the Priests of the Dark. They stared at the assassin with confused faces.
>> 
>> "Master, I swear, we had no clue—"
>> 
>> "Shut up, Sha'sa'in, and _get me that sacrifice_!"
>> 
>> In a flurry of robes of darkness all the men but the two holding Keladry came at the twin brothers with raised spears. Sha'sa'in, in the front, let out a squeal and tumbled forward. Smoke poured out of his clothes and slowly, like melting ice, he disintegrated into dust. They halted, startled, and looked around.
>> 
>> Joren smiled thinly at them from over in the corner, broken skull staff in hand.
>> 
>> They let out shrieks of fury as they came at them, spears raised expertly. Lucas unsheathed his sword. Frenn crouched, fingering a dagger in each hand.
>> 
>> As the battle raged, Lesenac turned toward Joren.
>> 
>> "So," he said casually, "you thought you could waltz in here, take your lady, kill me off, and leave a hero." He began to pace slowly toward him. "You have much to learn. You destroyed Sha'sa'in. Good for you. He was ambitious. I'm afraid that would have been a threat to me. I am not immortal, as he would have been. I am the child of gods, but I am flawed."
>> 
>> He stopped a yard or two away from the trembling blond.
>> 
>> "Something happened to me when I was being born. That black gem you see over there, near Keladry, is my home, my life force. If you destroy that, you kill me."
>> 
>> His grin widened. "But that won't happen, will it?"
>> 
>> Joren heard a scream of pain, louder than most, and glanced over the cruel not-god's shoulder to see Lucas down, writhing, a spear through his heart. Four out of the ten, twenty-odd people, including the ones with Kel, were left.
>> 
>> "Don't kill the sacrifice," Lesenac called angrily. "We need him!"
>> 
>> Frenn looked at him. "Do I have to be alive?"
>> 
>> "Yes. The sacrifice must be alive, Tortallan knight, and pure of heart."
>> 
>> He backed away from the Priests slowly, his eyes never leaving the Dark Master. A cold smile twitched his lips, as he plunged his own dagger through his heart.
>> 
>> "_No!_"
>> 
>> Lesenac screamed his raging wrath and raced toward him, his mouth opening to that impossible mass.
>> 
>> "You're not dead yet," he hissed to the dying sacrifice.
>> 
>> And then, Frenn midway his mouth, the bastard-god paused as something shattered.
>> 
>> Shards from the gem cut the skin of the men who held her and Kel as it exploded, an arrow through its middle. Lesenac swallowed, shaking. Light exploded from his eyes and huge mouth as Frenn was dropped. It burst through his skin in little holes that expanded. Blue lightning cracked around him, binding him in place. He shook with deadly convulsion, and through the light one could see his flashing skeleton. There was an almighty scream as he turned into a whirling dust devil, the funnel reaching up toward the rocky ceiling and burst through it. The Priests screeched in terror as sandy hands reached for them.
>> 
>> After a final, throbbing boom, everything stilled, save the pebbles that toppled from above.
>> 
>> Joren panted heavily, plastered up against the wall, his eyes huge. Kel shakily got to her feet. Frenn groaned.
>> 
>> "W-What was th-that all about?" someone squeaked.
>> 
>> "Neal?!"
>> 
>> Kel gaped at him. "What are _you_ doing here?"
>> 
>> Neal smiled nervously. "Saving you, of course."
>> 
>> "But how did you find me?"
>> 
>> "I met Daine somewhere in the forest near the palace. She had found a horse who said her master called her Hellfire. She helped me a lot, both of them, although Daine was irked with Hellfire's master."
>> 
>> "Who cares about that," Kel murmured. She suddenly remembered something. "Frenn!"
>> 
>> She was at her ex-captor's side in minutes, feeling for a pulse. It was there, weak. But it was there.
>> 
>> "Come on." Joren finally spoke up, breaking out of his paralysis. "I have a friend waiting outside, and if I know his father I'd say so is Lucas' crew."
>> 
>> So Kel, with Neal's help, got Frenn standing, and painstakingly moved toward the exit.
>> 
>> "Wait! Joren!"
>> 
>> Joren looked up from the late Captain Lucas Murray.
>> 
>> "Could you…get Arden's body?"
>> 
>> He looked over at the curly-haired boy's body and nodded, grim-mouthed. He gently picked Arden up, resting him on his shoulders, and looked around. He'd get Kris or somebody to get Lucas.
>> 
>> Joren left the cave, heading toward the ship. Toward home.
>> 
>> - - - -
>> 
>> **::sniff sniff:: So this is the end...I'm writing the epilogue now. I hope you enjoyed this sucky story!!**


	18. Epilogue

> **I understand this has probably moved sort of fast for you readers, and I'm sorry, but I wanted to FINISH it. AND NOW I HAVE!!!!!!**
> 
> **Oh, since the final real chapter was for Kassi, the epilogue can be for Wake-Robin. **
> 
> - - - - -
> 
> The Tortallan shoreline loomed into view. It was barely noticeable in the sunrise. If it had been dark, the _Mageskull_ would have missed it altogether.
> 
> Keladry paused on the deck when she spotted Joren resting against the rail, staring at the sea. With his tanned skin and red bandana and pierced earlobe, he looked so…right, just so at home on this ship.
> 
> They had been on board the ship together for almost two weeks, and had barely spoken a word to each other, not even when Frenn died of blood loss. Somehow, now seemed a good time to do it.
> 
> She quietly moved up beside him, and stared out at the same sea. He did not move or acknowledge her presence.
> 
> After a while she said, "Are you going back to Tortall?"
> 
> He was quiet for so long she thought he had not heard her.
> 
> "No," Joren finally said softly. "Nothing waits for me there but a trial."
> 
> "What about your shield?"
> 
> He chuckled bitterly. "I doubt I'd ever get it. Knowing my luck I'd die in the Chamber or something."
> 
> A pause.
> 
> "Are you going to stay here then?"
> 
> He nodded, still not looking at her. "They voted Kris captain. He doesn't want it though." Finally he looked at her, a wry smile barely touching his lips. "He wants to give the position to me."
> 
> Kel blinked. Joren, pirate captain?
> 
> "Are you going to take it?"
> 
> The blond turned his roaming blue eyes back out to sea. "Probably. I can't go back to Tortall, where a trial and probably an execution wait for me."
> 
> She nodded.
> 
> "Do you plan on going back to Tortall?"
> 
> She blinked. "Of course. I worked hard enough to get where I am. I'm staying."
> 
> "And after you get your shield…?"
> 
> Kel looked away. "I'll probably become an assassin, like Frenn had been."
> 
> Joren was not surprised even though he did not expect it. He figured she would do something in honor of Frenn. And yet it shocked him a little to find how much this girl had changed.
> 
> "I would not expect that of the girl who is always defending others," he told her quietly.
> 
> Her mouth twitched sadly. "Some things change. And of course I won't take all the assignments. I'll need a reason for the murder, not just because the employer does not like the victim."
> 
> _Ouch_.
> 
> Hesitantly, he placed an awkward hand on her arm. She looked at it, then up at him.
> 
> "Look, Keladry…"
> 
> She watched him with her impassive eyes.
> 
> "I _am_ sorry. This is pretty much all my fault."
> 
> She smiled sorrowfully at him as he removed his hand. "It's not all your fault, Joren. Some things I could have prevented too…and look on the bright side. If you had not done this, the world could have been overrun with Lesenac's henchmen."
> 
> The thought had never crossed his mind, and his spirits were lifted because of it.
> 
> "Kel!" Neal called. "Come on! We're almost there!"
> 
> Kel stared at him for a little longer, and then smiled. Not a fake smile, nor a cold one, but a small, warmly genuine smile.
> 
> "Maybe we'll see each other again," she said quietly, then walked away toward Neal.
> 
> He smiled.
> 
> _Maybe we will_, he thought, watching her retreating back. _In fact…I'm sure of it_.


End file.
